One Last Mission
by Mizzle fo' Rizzle
Summary: Post Phase One. Sydney has one last mission. Syd POV
1. Chapter 1

**One Last Mission**

Rating: PG-13

Timeline: After Phase One...But no kiss. The Getaway date _did_ happen, though.

Summary: Sydney wants to leave the CIA after the takedown of The Alliance, but Kendall has one more job for her to do.

Author's Note: This came from a dream, a very weird one. But, it kind of has to do with that, and not. So yeah.

**Chapter One**

POV: Sydney's, first person.

Finally, the day I can turn in my resignation. I know that just about everyone at JTF will be pissed off, but this is what I agreed on. Once SD-6 was down, I'd be gone. My game was done, my job finished here.

I strode into my final briefing, glaring at Kendall, who could only stare back, with a smirk on his face. What the hell was he so happy about? I took a glance at Vaughn; he was immersed in a manila folder containing various papers.

"Glad you could join us, Miss Bristow. Take a seat," Kendall said from his position.

"I'm just here to turn in my resignation form."

At my little announcement, all the heads in the room whipped upwards and turned towards me. What, did it look like I was doing crack or something? I glanced to my father, no emotion whatsoever, what else is new.

"I'm sorry, but I can't accept it. There's one last mission you are going on."

"What!" I blurted out before I could even think of saying something else. Next I was receiving a glare from Kendall.

"Please, take a seat."

I listened, nodding my head as I sat next to Vaughn. He gave me a bewildered look before we both looked at Kendall.

"Now, we have received intel that there is a new terrorist organization in the works, taking place in this country. Agent Bristow and Agent Vaughn, you will be going undercover."

When he finally paused in his talking, I took the opportunity to look in the folder, seeing more information about this new terrorist organization. Flipping through the pages, I found the destination of where Vaughn and I were going to be headed.

"We're going to be in St. Louis?" Vaughn asked before I could.

"Yes. Reports have been confirmed that terrorist activity has been taking place there. We now know of some terrorists that have been included: Mr. Sark, Arvin Sloane, and Anna Espinosa."

"Oh great," I let out. "Sloane leaves SD-6 just to start another organization. Fantastic."

Despite the sarcasm dripping from my voice, Kendall continued like he never even noticed. "Now, Agents Vaughn and Bristow, you two will pose as a married couple living right outside the city. You will work at a bank, but this bank is connected to the CIA, so it will be easy to make transitions and mission reports. Now, if this Intel is correct, the terrorist organization is being headed at Purina."

I choked, trying hard to hold in my laughter. Major terrorists using an animal food company as their front? I always wondered how weird this job could be; now I definitely knew the answer.

"So how will we receive information?" Vaughn asked.

"At night, you two will be infiltrating the building. Reports have said that some of the activity has been done on the 47th floor, so that is what you'll need to check first. Also, the subbasement might be a place to check."

Funny, subbasement, right when we're done with SD-6. Oh, how I just want to shoot every terrorist point-blank in the head from now on. _Dammit_.

"You two are on a plane by eight o'clock tomorrow morning. Your aliases are in the folders. Good luck."

With Kendall's parting speech, all of the agents left except for Vaughn and I. I decided to see who I was going to be for this mission.

_Lauren King  
Married to Michael King  
Newlyweds  
Occupation: Loan Officer_

"Michael and Lauren King, huh?" I laughed. Why in the hell did I laugh? Maybe because this whole entire situation was ridiculous, when all I wanted to do was turn in my form and go home.

"Yeah," He said plain and simple. "Oh, and, just so you know, your friend, Marshall, from SD-6, he's part of the team now."

"That's great," I smiled, and I was happy. Marshall deserved the job here; he probably was the best tech guy at SD-6. "What about Dixon?"

"He isn't too sure yet about the whole idea. We're trying everything to get him to join the Agency."

From my spot, I could see Vaughn frowning. He knew how much I cared about Dixon, and seeing him when we took down the Alliance, those words, it was just pure hell to me.

"So, yeah," He finally spoke, breaking the somber silence between us. "Marshall gave us three choices for rings," My heart sped up at those words. If only he knew that every damn time he spoke to me, made me feel like pouncing at him and taking him right on the floor. I watched his hand as it dug through his pockets, finding three boxes.

I could only wish that Vaughn was proposing to me right now. Oh, that would be the _life_. But, of course, mission, nope, the CIA always has to find a way to ruin my life just that much more.

He pulled out those three velvet boxes, setting them on the table and opening each one of them. I gasped, they were _beautiful_! Of course, there had to be a catch, and Vaughn started to speak like he read my mind.

"Each ring is fitted with a transmitter, both video and audio."

Sex tape, anyone?

I snapped my mind out of the gutter when Vaughn continued to talk.

"So, which one do you like?" He asked, and I began to look at each one. The pair that really stood out to me was a set of platinum rings. I saw the five diamonds and nearly squealed. Almost, but I didn't want to make a total idiot out of myself right in front of _him_.

"These," I said, pointing to the platinum rings. I looked over and he smiled at my choice.

"Thought you would like those."

"They're b-beautiful," I said with a stutter. Now, I was stuttering right beside him. Soon I'm probably going to be a puddle of jelly right beside his feet.

"Yeah," He said, nodding along before he took out the ring for me. "You don't mind, do you?"

Do I mind? Hell no! If only this was for real and we'd be hitting the sack later on, that would be even better. But all I did was nod, sticking out my left hand as he slid the ring onto my ring finger. I couldn't help but to admire the beauty of it.

"I've got to go and do some reports, if you need to ask me something; don't hesitate to stop by my desk." He said, looking at me for assurance. I gave him a smile and a nod, and he packed up his folder, and the three boxes, and headed out of the room.

"YES!" I screamed to no one when Vaughn was out of hearing range. Oh, was this going to be FUN!

Pack me up for St. Louis; I'm going to be married to Michael Vaughn!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Just so you people know..Purina is of course a major animal food company place. There's a building in downtown St. Louis that's a Purina company, and that's where I got that idea. But enjoy this chapter:D**  
**

**Chapter 2**

The CIA told us to pack light; they had already supplied us with almost everything at the new house in St. Louis. That still wouldn't stop me; I began to pack my favorite articles of clothing, and just about all the makeup bags I could find in my bathroom. I wrote a note to Francie, saying I'd be on a business trip, this time with the 'Hot Guy Michael' and headed out to LAX. Going through security and the whole bit, I walked over to the seating area at the gate, seeing Vaughn sleeping in one of the chairs, looking very uncomfortable.

"Hey there."

He jumped awake, looking up to me in surprise. "Hi, honey, glad you're late."

It took me a second, and then clicked into my head. Mission! "Oh you know, I had to pack a bunch," I said with a smirk, sitting down next to him. "So, why are you here so early?" I asked once we could talk normally.

"I thought security would be hell. Surprisingly, it wasn't," He said, rubbing at his eyes.

"Lucky for you," I mumbled out before leaning back in the chair and crossing my arms over my chest, hopefully to get some sleep.

"Always be prepared," He muttered, and for once, I felt like shooting whoever came up with that motto. I took a glance at the ring which was now on my finger, and smiled. I looked up to see Vaughn smiling at me. "What?"

"Well, now, you have to call me Michael all the time."

Oh, not in the bedroom, Vaughn. I'll make up every damn word in the world for you.

"Why, you don't like Vaughn?" I asked with a chuckle.

"Yeah, I do, but you never call me Michael."

"I try to keep it professional," I said, and couldn't help but to smirk. Anything between Vaughn and I professional? I just need to thank whoever the hell decided to make this new terrorist organization and Kendall. Yes, because the genius put this operation together. I'll send him a toupee or something later.

I bet Weiss is making a bet to see how long the 'professionalism' lasts. Oh wait, he did, and I'm in it, thanks to Marshall. Now I remember what almost no sleep can do.

Vaughn was about to speak, but the announcement to board the flight to St. Louis was announced through the speakers. We got up, lazily, and walked over to the line. While we were waiting, he slid his right hand to grip my left, and I couldn't help but to break out into a smile as our fingers entwined. After passing through the gates, we boarded the plane, and I jumped at the opportunity to get the window seat before he could even ask. He shot me a glare that had me in giggles, yes, _giggles_, but I got as comfortable as I could in the seat and drifted off to sleep.

I woke up to find out that we were in the air, slowly going down. I looked down to see that Vaughn's elbow was the disturbance that brought me out of the sleep. I looked up, through narrowed eyes, to see him smiling from ear to ear.

"Morning, honey," He drawled out, and I leaned my head back against the headrest, growling lowly in response. Then the pilot made the announcement, they'd be landing, and everyone to get into their seats and buckle up. I didn't have to worry, not even moving once since I was in a peaceful sleeping state for the last few hours.

I gazed out the window, looking at the new surroundings. "Nice, isn't it?" I heard him say, and I smiled. "I've been here, once, for about a day. Good people."

"That's what I've heard about the Midwest, good people," I said, agreeing with his statement. We then fell into a silence as the plane began to land.

"Welcome to Lambert International Airport in St. Louis, Missouri. Enjoy your stay."

At the announcement, any trace of sleep I wanted disappeared. Now I felt nervous and excited at the same time, the way I usually felt before a mission. Of course, this was for a different reason, too, and that reason was the man sitting next to me.

We got out of the plane, flying through security in record time and getting our bags as fast as we could. We hailed the nearest taxi, telling the driver to take us to the address to the house we would be staying in from now on. Upon seeing it, I couldn't help but to smile, and after getting my bags, I practically dragged Vaughn up to the door.

"A little excited?" He asked with a laugh, and I shot him a glare. He just smiled at me and fished the key out of his pocket, and unlocked the door. Upon opening it, my jaw nearly hit the floor.

I think this was the CIA's version of _Pimp My Ride; _instead it was Pimp My_ House_. I looked over at Vaughn; his expression was clearly the same. We both dashed into the house, like little kids. He went straight for the big screen television; I went straight for the bedroom upstairs. Finding the master bedroom, the bags that I was carrying hit the floor with a large thud. Besides the fact that the bedroom was twice the size of my living room at home, I looked to see that the _walk-in_ closet was already filled with clothes. Guessing one of the doors that was closed was the bathroom, I took my chances and opened the door. Now, my knees nearly gave out. It was a his and her bathroom, large enough to fit twenty people in. I looked on what would hopefully be my side, seeing a large vanity, a shower, and a bathtub.

"YES!" I heard Vaughn shout from downstairs. I went downstairs to see him transfixed to the TV, and laughed.

"Vaughn, you haven't even seen the rest of the house."

"I don't think I need to," He said, not even turning away from the television once.

Oh, once you see what I can do, you _will_.

While he was hypnotized by the sports channel, I took the opportunity to check out the rest of the rooms. Cameras were cleverly placed all around in every room, making it seem eerily familiar to Big Brother. I went back up to the master bedroom and looked around, heaving out a sigh. No cameras were in the room.

"Vaughn, do you know that there are cameras everywhere?" I asked when I went back into the living room. I shouldn't have even bothered, he was still channel surfing. I shook my head and went into the kitchen, seeing a large basket filled with various foods. A note was attached, and I ripped it away from the basket.

_Welcome to St. Louis, Agents Vaughn and Bristow, or now Michael and Lauren King. We hope you enjoy the sights here, it's a great place. We also need you to report into the bank as soon as you arrive. Go to the receptionist desk, and use your aliases. The woman at the desk will show you where to go._

_--The St. Louis CIA Office_

"Michael!" I shouted out into the living room. In a matter of seconds, he skidded into the kitchen, his face flushed. I could only smirk seeing his worried expression turning into frustration and embarrassment. "We have to report."

"You mean I can't enjoy sports for the day?" He asked, crossing his arms.

I smiled, setting the note down. "Get dressed."

"Alright."

**xxxxxxx**

Vaughn and I arrived at the bank wearing our business attire. Walking up to the front desk, the receptionist smiled warmly at us.

"Hi, I'm Lauren King, and this here is Michael," I said, and the receptionist's face lightened up.

"Oh, hello! Come with me, please," She said in a happy voice, as she got up from her seat and led us into a hall. "Agents Bristow and Vaughn, it's good to have you here in St. Louis. Everyone here is excited to meet you."

"Meet us? Are we going to the CIA office?" Vaughn asked.

"Yes, but following procedure, anytime now that you go to the office, you will have to go through the bank. If you have any information, you just come to the front desk; all of us at the desk are with the CIA. We will take you to the office from here."

We walked through another hall, and to a lone elevator. Getting in, it took us to the ground level. We got out, getting into a car nearby with tinted windows. Now I was starting to realize how serious this operation was. By the look on Vaughn's face, he was starting to get the impression, too.

Arriving at the CIA office, which consisted of going through even more security than at the JTF, about all of the activity seized when Vaughn and I stepped into the large office. Seeing all the agents, analysts, and other people looking at us made me nervous. The receptionist that was at our side noted the complete silence and smiled.

"Everyone here has heard about the work that you two did in taking down The Alliance. You guys are probably celebrities around this office."

Knowing this, I couldn't help but to smile. To think that the people here were just waiting to see us, knowing the stuff we went through to take down the biggest terrorist organization yet, had me amazed.

She took us to an office, and upon knocking, we all walked in, seeing a man about the age of Devlin typing away at the computer. He looked up at us all with a smile on his face and nodded, the receptionist leaving a second later.

"Agent Bristow and Agent Vaughn, glad to have you here. Take a seat."

We took our seats at the couch in front of his desk. I was really starting to like these people here.

"We're so glad to have you here. When the offices in LA told us of the terrorist activity going through here, we were surprised. Then, when they proposed you two coming in to go undercover and take them out, we we're more than anxious to have you two in. As you probably know, we all know about SD-6 and the rest of the SD cells. Once again, great job."

I could feel the blush rising up on my cheeks. I was used to compliments, but every time that I got them, I knew why I stayed in this job.

"But why I brought you here so quickly, there is a mission we have planned for you two."

Already? Don't we get time to like, unpack? Relax? Sleep with Vaughn?

"We have confirmed intel that Mr. Sark will be at Busch Stadium tomorrow, meeting with Anatoliy Gregorev, known for his arms dealing, mostly in Russia."

"So why doesn't Sark go over to Russia to meet with him?"

"From what we know here, Sark needs to stay in this area, or just the United States. He's been having a lot of meeting involving this new organization. Now for this mission, Mr. Sark and Mr. Gregorev have terrace seats, up along the first base line. Agent Vaughn, you will be a hot dog vendor, and have a microphone on you that you will implant close to Sark and Gregorev so we can record their conversation."

I nearly busted out laughing...Vaughn as a hot dog vendor? I could imagine it now.

"And Agent Bristow, you will be doing recon from the other side of the stadium. We have our tech people working on getting a special pair of sunglasses done that have zooming technology. You both will be outfitted with comm. pieces. This takes place tomorrow, good luck."

Both Vaughn and I nodded, getting up from our seats. I think this is the kind of mission I needed, getting a tan and watching Vaughn. "Go Cardinals," I mutter, but loud enough to where Vaughn could hear me. I look up to see him growl and glare at me.

Who wants a hot dog?


	3. Chapter 3

Hiya y'all! Sorry for the wait..I have school, football, and work, so I've been having fun with that. But I'm getting this up now before I leave for the first football game of the season:) And probably after the game when I get home I'll get responses up and all that.

* * *

I sat in my terrace seat all alone as I waited for the games to start, both baseball and meeting. I couldn't help but to grin at the events that led up to right now.

_Besides the whole day that had Vaughn on the couch, addicted to the sports channels, the only real time that we communicated were over pizza delivery and sleeping arrangements. _That_ peaked his interest, even only if it was for a short time, before we had to go to sleep for the long day planned ahead for tomorrow, at least for him._

"_So why do I have to be the hot dog guy?" He whined out as we were unpacking our bags._

"_Because, Sark knows me, plus I think the CIA would want you to look good in that hot dog outfit," I explained, and he scowled at the last statement which brought a smile to my face. He returned to unpacking and sorting while I went into the bathroom to change._

Maybe I was a bit harsh; in clothing apparel...just having on shorts and a tank top, but the heat is _killer _here.

_After five minutes of squatting down to organize my clothes, and giving Vaughn a good view, I heard an audible gulp come from the other side of the room. I turned my head just enough to see him look away quickly. He looked back at me, his expression close to showing the-deer-in-the-headlights look. His cheeks gradually turned a shade of red, which made me smirk._

"_Need anything?" I asked casually as if I had no clue into what was going on._

"_Um, w-well," He stuttered. Bingo, I had him good. I hope I get some sort of punishment for my bad deeds. "It's late; we got to get up early...so yeah."_

"_Look, Vaughn, it's hotter than hell here, and it wasn't my choice to turn off the air conditioner," I stopped for a moment, glaring at him. "Now I don't care if you just want to strip down and sleep naked, do whatever you want."_

_But please, God, answer my prayers and let him do that!_

_I smiled inwardly as he stepped to the dresser, getting rid of the watch. I got up and into the bed, watching his moves like a hawk. I watched him as he began to take off his t-shirt, and I was _thisclose_ to fainting when he fully removed it._

_Now, is it just me or did it just get that much hotter?_

_He saw the flustered look on my face before I could recover, and a smirk formed on his lips. I glared at him before making a 'humph' sound and trying to sleep._

"Cardinal," Vaughn snapped me out of the daze by yelling into the comm. piece I had in my ear. I think I jumped in my seat, but maybe it's a good thing they set me in a section all by myself.

"Yes?" I mumbled, touching a side of the sunglasses to instantly get a good view of the other side of the stadium. I immediately spotted Vaughn in his hot dog vendor attire and laughed, seeing how ridiculous but damn good he looked.

"Do you have a visual ID on Sark?"

I looked a couple of sections away from where Vaughn was standing, and I could see Sark in the front row of the terrace seats, a couple seats around him empty. He seemed calm to the casual eye, but I could even tell he was getting anxious for the dealer to arrive.

"I have a visual on Gregorev," Vaughn said. "Turn on the audio."

I spotted Gregorev as he was going down the stairs and into the seat, while he was doing that I pressed a button and one of the CIA's gadgets came to life, which let me and Vaughn hear crystal clear audio from everything around Sark and Gregorev.

"Get your hot dogs!" Vaughn yelled to the crowd and I cringed.

"Would you stop yelling so damn loud?" I asked, even though it was his _alias_ to sell hot dogs.

"Sorry, Cardinal," He said, and even if he was trying to sound sorry, I could see the smirk.

"You're doing a horrible job at being sympathetic," I noted, and saw his face sober up immediately as I looked back to Sark and Gregorev, who hadn't even began talking yet.

"Anything?" He asked after a few quiet moments.

"Negative."

Sark and Gregorev spent two innings silent, until the bottom of the third when Sark finally began to talk.

"I'm sorry that Mr. Sloane could not be with us today, he had other business to take care of."

"I understand. Now, Mr. Sark, how many weapons are we looking at?"

"Hundreds, thousands..."

"You know how much this will cost you?"

"Yes," Sark said immediately.

"These people here," Gregorev began, his voice dominant in the Russian accent. "Have no idea, so nice, so caring, and so _pathetic_."

"I agree," Sark said and smiled, which caused me to cringe. "They will never know that soon, very soon, there will be one of the biggest terrorist organizations run right in this city."

Gregorev laughed. "Oh yes, now where and when do you want the weapons?"

"That I will contact you later about, Anatoliy."

"So, Mr. Sark, who else is heading this organization besides you and Arvin Sloane?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't speak of that matter here."

"Right," Vaughn said over comms. "Able to get a deal of weapons, but can't talk about anyone involved?" I definitely noticed the sarcasm coming from his tone.

"Hot dog," I warned, using his call sign for emphasis. The silence that followed could've had me in tears of laughter if it wasn't for why we were here in the first place.

"I will call you soon with the details of our next meeting," Sark said, interrupting my own thoughts.

"Pleasure doing business," Gregorev said, then got up from his seat and walked away.

"Gregorev is gone," I announced quietly to Vaughn.

"Keep the sound on, Cardinal," Vaughn said as he yelled once again for anyone wanting to have hot dogs. "Thank God," He mumbled, as I watched him stalk off into one of the employee areas.

I took opportunity of the magnified sunglasses to look down at the field to watch at least some of the game. I heard some shuffling in the audio from Sark's section and looked to see him getting up.

"Sark is leaving," I said to Vaughn, and got no response in return. "Vaughn, do you copy?"

"Hi honey," Vaughn said, effectively scaring me for a moment before plopping down in the seat next to me. My head went spinning after I whipped my head around, the magnifying sunglasses still in tact, and got a nice one second view of the stadium before Vaughn's face and pores were shown. I turned off the magnification and took off the sunglasses, giving him the fakest smile I could.

"Hi, sweetie, you just scared me a bit, showing up unexpected," I said, and he laughed. I felt like decking him, but did something better. I leaned over the arm rest and pressed my lips into his. After the initial shock wore off _both_ of us, the kiss slowly but gradually deepened, until I decided to quickly pull away.

"What the-"

"Quiet," I interrupted. "I'm trying to watch the game."

This, and only this time, will be the only time that I will agree with Sark. The longer the operation, the more time I get to spend, and torture, Vaughn.


	4. Chapter 4

Yeeeep, it's been awhile. But this month has been hectic, and Monday I had surgery to take my appendix out, so that just kinda put a stop to my life for a couple of days. But now I'm back to (almost) normal, and back with an update:)

* * *

I sat in the kitchen drumming my fingernails mindlessly on the countertop as time went crawling by. Since yesterday at the stadium, absolutely nothing has happened, which doesn't surprise me. I'm pretty damn happy though, bored, but happy, because no going into the CIA offices today. They had been analyzing the data of Sark's conversation and going through all of his records which they could find, which just left Vaughn and I on the waiting game for right now.

Speaking of Vaughn, he decides to make an appearance, stalking in from the living room which is now in his words called _Sports Central_...yeah.

"Hey."

"Huh? What? Oh, hi," I snap out of my thoughts and sound like an idiot. In front of Vaughn. Damnit.

"You seem to be pretty...Distracted," He said, and I'm guessing he's trying to break the 'tension.'

Now I remember what I wanted to do! It involved home shopping and a television. My lips curved into a smirk as I sent a challenging glare his way. He definitely seemed to notice, and it was a race to the couch, and the remote that lay on it.

Seeing the couch within jumping distance, I launched myself into the air, landing on my stomach and covering the remote with my body. Sadly, that didn't stop Vaughn as the couch sank even more when he landed right on top of me.

I thought of the possibilities: Me. Vaughn. Couch. Position. But those seem to fade away quickly when my lungs start to burn for air and I can feel that certain tingle which means that he's doing a pretty damn good job at cutting off my circulation. "Vaughn," I squeaked out, thankfully within a second I could take a deep breath when he rolled off of the couch. After regaining most of my senses, I searched under my body and found the remote crammed between the cushions, and saw Vaughn staring at it like a dog with a piece of meat.

"Syd?" He looked up with _that_ face. Eyes widened, the sad look showing through. Okay, this is it, feelings for other people is definitely being taken off my weakness list, like now.

"Fine...After I get in this order," I said, switching the channel from the baseball game to a home shopping channel. He let out a groan, a sigh, and a whimper before I even had a chance to write down any information. "Look, I've been waiting for three weeks for this to be shown. You can wait two minutes, okay?" He decided to gaze at me while I wrote down the information, my usually good handwriting turning into complete chicken scratch under his powers.

"Take it," I growled, handing over the remote when he beamed, turning the game back on and lounging back on the couch. Maybe just seeing him like this wouldn't be so bad after all.

Before I could get involved in some random baseball game, my cell phone began it's loud ringing, and not wanting to bother Vaughn out of his _man_ phase, I bolted from the room with the cell phone in hand. Once I finally saw who it was, I let out a shriek of happiness before answering.

"Francine Calfo!"

"Sydney Bristow!"

"Thank you!"

"Where are you?"

"Away with..."

"Hot guy Michael, I got the note!"

"Yes, he's in the other room right now!"

"Room!"

Oh boy. Francie didn't exactly know the details of the trip. Okay, so the spy skills get lost in the occasional girl chatter, so what?

"Um, y-yeah," I manage to stutter, and smack myself on the head afterwards. Damnit, I can come up with something! "It's gonna be awhile to get this job done so were housed up."

"So right now you're with the man you've been talking about for months?"

I wish I could be in LA right now to smack Francie senseless, but that would require me leaving this house, and oh yeah, Vaughn too. That is not happening, even for my best friend. "You summed it up."

"Sydney!"

I froze, silently cursing myself now for not putting a muzzle over Vaughn's mouth so I could talk to Francie in peace. One thing that I had grown accustomed to in these leisure days was Vaughn telling me every single thing about sports, and this was probably going to be another lesson.

"Is that him?" She said, so low that I had to cram the phone into my ear to hear.

"No, it isn't Francie, it's just some random man that I am with," I take a moment to let it sink in that sometimes my friend can just ask the dumbest questions. "Yes, it is him."

"I'll be right there, Michael," I say to Vaughn after covering the receiver with my hand. "Francie, just a sec."

Stepping into the living room, I at least tried to look annoyed as Vaughn looked up at me. He saw the expression and his face just about fell. I pointed to the phone and walked back out to the room, continuing the conversation with Francie for a couple of more minutes before she had to go off and torture Will.

"Vaughn, I swear," I growled as I walked past the living room and into the kitchen to search for food. There was one thing that the CIA forgot to stock in the Pimp-House, and that was food. Yes, maybe some for a day or two, but when a hot couch potato happened to be living in the same house, food would be scarce.

So what does that lead up to?

Shopping!

With Vaughn!

Yes!

"Vaughn!"

As I expected, and after looking at my watch, Vaughn was in the kitchen within five seconds. I opened the fridge and pointed inside, and like reading my mind, he knew exactly what I was thinking.

"Sydney, no," He began, his lip pouting out as he looked at me like a lost puppy. Oh gosh. Hell no. I'm _not_ falling for it.

"Do you know how much we have to buy?" I asked, knowing the answer he'll give, or the face that he'll give. "You're coming; you can watch the game later. We have every imaginable channel, I'm sure they will show it again."

"Alright," I could hear him mumble as he turned on his heel and went upstairs. I smirked, looking into the bare fridge, and even made the lame attempt to look into the pantry to find a few lone boxes of cereal and spaghetti.

Time for fun, Vaughn, time for fun.

**xxxxxxx**

"Gosh damnit, urg, gah, man," The string of curses and incoherent words continued to pour from Vaughn's mouth as we walked into the very large supermarket and got a shopping cart. I let the poor man push it through as we started down the first aisle.

"So what do we need to get?" He asked, eyeing the foods as he walked past.

I stood at the left of the cart, guiding it to make sure he didn't run off. "Just about everything in the store," At this, he stopped, and it was right at fruits so I began my work at picking out good tomatoes and such while Vaughn just looked at me, this territory probably foreign to him.

"The kitchen can't be that empty," I heard him complaining, and then heave out a sigh. I shook my head and began tossing various fruits into the shopping cart.

"Guess what Michael, dear, it is that empty," I said, and couldn't help but to grin as he showed a frown. "Yep, this could be awhile, get used to it," I walked over to him and patted his shoulder.

We began to walk again, now down the next aisle as the bottom of the shopping cart was filled with all of the essential fruits to keep us mostly healthy. I know that Vaughn would definitely change that in a matter of time when we went into the snack area.

But my whole body seemed to stop when a hand found its way onto my lower back, slowly sliding it's way and placing it on my waist. When I regained control of my legs and shakily tried to keep up with Vaughn, I saw the cheeky grin on his face. Oh, if this was his form of torture for me, the man has no clue.

I could only grin back as I looked forward and slid my hand into the butt pocket of his jeans, giving him a nice squeeze. He jumped, letting out a nice yelp in response, and earning some stares from an elderly woman across from us.

"My husband here just figured out he really doesn't like the ketchup."

The old woman could only shake her head and laugh in response as she moved on. Once she was out of hearing distance, Vaughn whipped his head around and scowled at me, a motion that just made me smile.

"What's wrong honey?"

"Absolutely nothin'," He said through a forced smile, then leaned his body into mine and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. Oh gosh, come on, can we just drop at it and go down on the floor right now? Look at the signs! Wait, we're acting married, let's do that in the household too now! I looked at him dumbfounded when he started to move again, eventually moving me also because of his arm around my body. "What's wrong? We need to shop."

Ugh, damnit, urg, gah. Great, now I'm beginning to act like him! I tried to think of ways to get back at him but my mind became a jumbled up mess when his hand began to stroke my side slowly, then moved onto my back. "Hey Michael?" My usually strong voice resembled a mouse squeak. Yes, I could become that pathetic under him.

"Hmm?"

Now I figured out if I wanted control of something, I'd take over his sole obsession. "If you don't let me do the shopping, I control the television for a week."

Vaughn's hand immediately stopped, and even though I craved that touch, I craved food much more. Considering that living off of pizza and beer for the next few days wouldn't suffice because of our extra activities.

Our shopping continued in silence, filled with the best of sexual thoughts, at least on my side.


	5. Chapter 5

_One Week Later_

"Hello there, you two," Eric Weiss happily announced over a camera that was broadcasted over to Vaughn and I in the St. Louis office. I couldn't help but to notice the smirk he had on his face when Vaughn rolled his eyes.

"Eric," Vaughn and I responded at the same time, equal business tones.

The smirk on his face grew as his face lit up. Oh great...

"Looks like you two woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

Both Vaughn and I nearly choked at the words, and our reactions sent Weiss laughing.

My face stoned immediately, and within seconds, Eric sobered up. He'd already had enough encounters with my father to know to never mess with a Bristow.

He wiggled around in his chair, and the corners of my mouth lifted up into an amused smirk. "Anyway, why I contacted... We have confirmed Intel that Sark will have another meeting, this time with one of Gregorev's associates. He will be meeting in Zurich, but before you get your hopes up and get ready...The CIA already has a team in place and is ready to do simple recon. Kendall just wanted to be nice and tell you that piece of information."

At this, I nearly fumed. Knowing that Kendall was just going to tell us this bit of information and that I am starting to become field deprived—already—is just killing me. Screw that toupee he was going to get, now I might have Marshall lace it with explosives, or a transmitter, or a _brain_.

Vaughn seemed to have the same thoughts I did on the situation, because he decided to speak up. "So what, is Kendall just trying to drive two of the top field agents' insane just sitting in this house doing nothing?"

I coughed, glaring at Vaughn. "At least _you_ are entertained by baseball."

"Well I would _like_ to go out on some type of a mission," I went to speak but he continued. "And that does not include grocery shopping."

"You know what then? You enjoy your activities and I'll enjoy mine," I said, grabbing the keys off of the counter and a local attractions map. "See you around dinner."

I left the house to a surprised Vaughn and Weiss.

**xxxxxxx**

Who knew how much fun a girl could have with an unlimited credit card? On one of my many 'people to thank' lists, I'll add the analyst who put a credit card in my palm and told me that I could use this in any situation.

Thanks Will!

So yes, anyway, I never knew that St. Louis had a _huge_ mall. Not Mall of America huge, but pretty damn close to where you could swoon when you just step inside. To the right, a fricking hockey rink, and to the left, a bowling alley! I think I'm in love with the St. Louis Mills.

And if the backseat shows the evidence, I can't even see it. Okay, so I don't think I'll be hitting up Saks Fifth Avenue when I return home, but it was damn nice to see that I bought enough clothes to last me a year at the Pimp House.

If Vaughn doesn't rip them off, though.

I keep on driving down the highway when that all too familiar sound occurs. Clatter, clatter, clatter, boom, boom, boom...Well, not that, but...Never mind. Before I know it the car died and I am seriously happy I'm a spy right now, since I'm cutting through at least two lanes to make it to the shoulder.

_Shit!_

I get out of the car and attempt to pop open the hood, but now that isn't even working! The little piece of crap decides now not to pop open and I'm well...pissed, to put it likely. I slam my fist so hard I see a dent in the hood.

Go me.

I knew I had to call help and the CIA wouldn't exactly be my first option or the wisest when you're undercover. So, now it's up to my _guardian angel_ to get his fine ass here. In seconds I dial Vaughn's cell phone and hear his voice.

"Syd?"

"Vaughn!"

"What's up?"

"Vaughn! My car broke down!"

Despite being about 15 miles apart, I think I heard his jaw drop. "I'll be right there."

I didn't even attempt to hang up the phone because the genius never asked where I was in the first place. "Vaughn?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm on 370."

I happened to chuckle as I hung up the phone, knowing that I one-upped Vaughn again. I sat down on the hood of the car, because sitting inside and waiting is a no-no in sweltering heat. I saw Vaughn's Mustang fly by on the other way on the highway, then get off the exit ramp to make its way to my side of the highway. In seconds his car is in front of mine on the shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Vaughn asked after he got over to the car and came over to me, enveloping me in a hug, one that I freely accepted.

"I'm alright. I just want to make sure that no one takes anything in there," I said, after pulling away from the hug and pointing inside the car to the backseat.

"You...Didn't," He managed to say and ran a hand through his hair, his face scrunching up as his forehead wrinkles showed. No, I'm not staring, just observing, a lot.

"It's not my fault!" I defended my over-the-top shopping. The CIA gives me an unlimited credit card, what am I supposed to do, go on eBay? "Thank the office."

He looked at me with a stunned look, like he had never seen a woman shopping before.

I walked back to the car, this time on the passenger side. "Can you help me transfer all these bags, Michael?" I asked nicely, and I was starting to get sick of being on the side of the highway, arguing with Vaughn.

He mumbled some incoherent words before stepping over to help me with the bags, and in minutes his backseat was covered. "I'll call up the office," He said before walking off to the passenger side of his car and leaning against the door, and proceeded to call the CIA office here in St. Louis. I observed from my lazy position on top of the dent in my hood, until he walked back over. "We can leave, they've got position and they're going to pick it up." He began to walk to his car and I followed, getting in.

"Thanks, by the way," I said once we were back on the highway.

Vaughn turned to me to give me one quick knee-weakening smile, and I was happy to be sitting down or else I'd be jelly. He looked back out at the road and I stared out the window, brushing some hairs back behind my ear.

**xxxxxxx**

Being a spy sucks...sometimes. One of the things that does suck is when you get the three in the morning calls. Vaughn and I were sleeping peacefully, until the ringing of one our Nokia's began.

"Syd," Vaughn mumbled, I could hear his face was stuffed in a pillow. "It's yours."

I growled, flipping over and reaching for the cell phone in the dark. Instead of my hand landing on some wood object, it smacked flesh, and quite hard. Next came a yell and Vaughn sat straight. "Sorry," I mumbled, reaching to the other side and finding the nightstand, and cell phone on top of it.

"Bristow," I said through the receiver.

"Sydney, this is Weiss. We might have something."

"Couldn't it wait four more hours?" I sighed, looking at the clock and wanting to slam my head into the pillow and go into a deep sleep.

"Afraid not. We have confirmation of another meeting."

"And?"

"It's in one hour."

"Where?"

"Your neighbor's house."

"What!" Now, one of my neighbors is a terrorist? Absolutely fantastic.

"Her name is Allison Doren. Reports say that she just moved in and that Sark and Sloane are keeping her under watch. She might become a partner in their organization."

I wanted to give Vaughn the information when I saw him staring at me. "Here, Weiss talk to Vaughn," I said, handing the cell phone over and digging my head back into my pillow.

"Son of a bitch," Vaughn mumbled as he turned off the cell phone, reaching over me to place it back on the nightstand. I looked up to see his chest in my face and nearly died, but at the same time inhaling his unique scent, nearly passing out at the sensations. "He just wanted to tell us that, even though a team is set up ready to do recon."

My eyes popped open. "So he called right now instead of waiting?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer. Damnit, Eric Weiss, I will kick your ass!

"Oh, he did say something else, though."

"What's that?"

"Someone from Los Angeles is coming out here because they say he's been researching on Allison Doren."

"Am I going to have to start guessing names?" I ask sarcastically.

"It's Will."

Oh boy.


	6. Chapter 6

"Will?"

"Yes."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"No way."

"Yes way."

Vaughn and I went at this for another ten minutes, me just asking the same questions until he finally got up and went into the bathroom. I guess one way of annoying Michael Vaughn is to just be a little kid and do the question game, which is quite fun. Even though it was three in the morning, still, I heard the faucet running and a splash of water. I got up and put on a robe that was on the chair, walking silently over to the bathroom and leaning on the doorframe.

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"Acting like a kid."

"No reason to," He said, looking towards me with that damned thousand watt smile. I made sure that my body wouldn't collapse against the doorframe before actually looking at him. "Sure is funny though, we're starting to act like an old married couple."

Despite being noted as an old woman—and yes, Vaughn, we will have a talk about that later—I smiled. "Where I can't hear a damn word even if you tried to yell it into my ear."

"Cheers," He laughed, and I mocked disappointment. He would make fun of me?

"Hey now, I'm not _that_ old."

He walked over to me, wrapping his strong, secure, and lovely arms around me. "I know," He smiled, looking into my eyes, and I felt my knees beginning to weaken. He leaned into me, and then placed his lips against my forehead. "The room is tapped," He whispered.

Realization sunk in and I froze. Of course, the bad guys have to ruin a perfectly good and tender moment.

"That's one thing that Eric said to me, the CIA is going to be coming in a few days disguised as a bug crew looking for termites."

"Gross," I mumbled against his chest.

He shrugged in the embrace. "Yeah, they're going to take out the bugs, old fashioned style—which Eric did not explain what that is."

"So we have to act married."

Oh boy...In a good way, of course.

**xxxxxxx**

So I figured there might be an advantage to having Will in the house, and no, not as a voyeur. Even though that would be kinky I think Francie might shoot me in the face for even thinking that. Ah well, she did want me to get with 'Hot Guy Michael.'

From Will, we might get information on the newest terrorist on the block, because nowadays they're popping up like popcorn and just seem to be getting better. Sadly it happens to be true, especially when Project Christmas was the thing around in the 80's. I'm happy I turned out on the good side.

"Hey Syd," Vaughn said as he came up right behind me, speaking into my ear and making me jump. The actions made him laugh and me growl. "I think we're out of milk."

"Then you go buy some," I said, returning to the magazine that was resting on the kitchen island. "Not like it's my responsibility to take care of every household thing."

"I swear I am not leaving this house again without you. I went running today and I had about five women that were running try to strike up conversations...and that doesn't even include the old ladies that were staring at me!"

"Did you wear your ring?" I asked coldly.

His head dropped, and I had my answer. "Sorry."

I looked at the ring on my left hand, examining it carefully. "You know what these rings symbolize? A true love between a man and a woman, and if you just decide to take yours off whenever you want to, I can tell how this marriage is going to end."

The look on Vaughn's face told it all, the sorrow, pain, and _love_? I shook off the feelings and jumped off of the chair, grabbing his hand and leading him towards a bathroom with a shower. Once we were in one, I turned on the faucet and the shower to the highest power.

"Vaughn, they have our room tapped. Who knows what else is going on? From this moment on, we need to act married, inside and outside the house. Please just be more responsible."

He brought up my left hand and kissed my ring finger, catching me off guard. "I'm sorry," He apologized once again. "I promise to _be_ a loving husband, to take care of you, to nurture, to care for you when you're sick, to help Will out when he comes into town, and maybe even bring you breakfast in bed."

It was as if Vaughn knocked my socks off with his makeshift vows of love, catching me off guard once again as I couldn't help but to look into his eyes. "I promise to not be an evil dictator, to not shop as much at the mall, to be nicer to you, and not smack you on the chest in the middle of the night."

"Do you?" He asked with a playful gleam in his eyes, along with a smile making its way onto his lips.

"I do, do you?" I asked with a lopsided grin.

"Definitely."

We both smiled seconds before our lips met and I reached heaven, or a place where I've been waiting almost two years, kissing Vaughn in a bathroom.

But sadly, our blissfulness did not last long as a doorbell rang. I looked at Vaughn, who smiled at me before turning off the water. I headed out of the bathroom and to the front door, opening it up and nearly falling over at the sight in front of me.

There was Will, dressed head to toe as a punk. Literally, his normal blond-brownish hair was now brown with streaks of blue, a nose ring intact, an old Van Halen t-shirt and ragged tight jeans. He carried two suitcases which were full of stickers of bands from the 60s to the 80s.

"Hey W..." Vaughn's word seemed to drop off as he caught sight of Will's appearance. I looked to Vaughn to see him smirking and trying hard not to bust out laughing.

"Hey guys," Will said with a grin as he stepped into the house, kicking the door closed behind him. He immediately went into one of the guest bedrooms on the first floor, in which Vaughn and I followed him closely. He dropped one suitcase on the floor, then set the other on the bed and opened it, grabbing a CD case and flipping it open. "A bug killer," He said with a smirk, turning to Vaughn and me.

"Interesting," I said with a smile. "I guess Weiss updated you with the news."

"Yeah, when's the bug team coming in anyways?" He asked as he took out the fake nose ring.

"Supposedly today or tomorrow," Vaughn answered and turned around to step out of the room, leaving me to look at Will.

I smirked at him before walking over and enveloping him into a hug. "You have such perfect timing."

"Why's that?" He asked and pushed away slightly to look at me with questioning eyes.

I blushed, and lowered my head, trying to hide my smile. "No reason," I looked up to see him with a grin on his face.

"You and Vaughn—"

"How about you and Francie?" I quickly averted the subject. Now it was his turn to smile and look away, and he began unpacking his clothes.

"We're good. Of course she wasn't too pleased about the trip, since I said I was going to Fiji...But hey, that's the way our lives are now."

I felt a twinge of pain for my best friend who could never know the secrets both Will and I had now. I didn't even want Will to have this kind of life that's filled with lies, but sadly he was brought in not under his will.

"Hey Syd," Will stared at me as I snapped out of the daze. "You okay?"

I smiled up at him sadly, then looked down again and sighed. "Francie."

"I know," He said, hugging me once more. "Think of it like this now, we're both protecting her."

I smirked, looking at him. "You...protect someone?"

"Uh huh! Remember when I..." He blanked, causing me to grin.

"That's right, go to the loser's couch."

"Digital?"

"Sadly."

He practically ran out of the room to get into the living room as soon as possible. I laughed, walking over to the bed and closing the CD cover. I walked to the living room and watched the two guys as they enjoyed their sports.

Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad time.


End file.
